A Quick Break
by Mexicano27
Summary: Unable to find the droids they're looking for, two Stormtroopers decide to take a quick break from their duties.


LS-227 rapped his knuckles against his helmet, feeling disoriented. On a remote corner of his vision, he spotted a small red landspeeder taking off and heading deeper into the city of Mos Eisley. What had just happened?

"You doing all right there, Sarge?" asked the nearby Stormtrooper, TS-708. He was also one of the youngest and newest members of the squad. "You're looking a little woozy…"

"I… I'm fine," LS-227 said, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. For some reason, he had trouble remembering what had just happened moments before. He remembered spotting a red landspeeder and stopping it for questioning then… nothing. He couldn't remember. "Who was in that landspeeder?" he asked out loud, hoping he didn't make himself appear too foolish in the process. What kind of normal person forgot what happened a second ago?

TS-708 tilted his head, looking at him. His face concealed by the white helmet, LS-227 couldn't read his expression. However, it was probably safe to assume that the look he was being given was a perplexed one.

"It was just some kid and an old man with a couple of droids," TS-708 answered. "Those weren't the droids we're looking for. You said so yourself."

"Er, right," LS-227 answered. What TS-708 said sounded familiar. "I guess the heat's getting to me or something," he muttered to himself, and reached for the knob that controlled his suit's cooling system. Taking such precautionary measures would hopefully prevent another memory blackout.

TS-708 continued to give him a queer look. "The heat's getting to all of us, Sarge. But I didn't think it would be bad enough to cause amnesia or anything. What do you say we take a break?"

"We're on duty," LS-227 said. "We can't just leave our post when we have to be looking out for those missing droids."

"Come on, what harm will it do? There's a cantina not too far from here. We'll head on over for a drink and be right back."

"That's against the rules," LS-227 answered sternly. "We're not allowed to drink." Even as he said it, the thought of stepping into a nice, cool bar to get a drink sounded pretty tempting.

"Just one drink, that's all. No one'll know."

LS-227 decided to change the excuse, seeing as TS-708 was beginning to convince him. "You expect me to take the entire squad out to the cantina?" he said incredulously, gesturing to the Stormtroopers standing idle behind him. "I don't think so."

"Of course not, Sarge!" said TS-708. "Just you and me. We'll leave these men here and be back in an hour. Tell 'em the lieutenant back at HQ wanted to talk to us or something."

"That would be irresponsible," LS-227 insisted, this time desperate to find some reason not to go. The heat was attacking him again, making his skin tingle unpleasantly despite the air conditioning. "And if we get caught, they'll fine us. Do you seriously want that to happen?"

"Don't be ridiculous," TS-708 retorted. "We won't get caught. And if we do, they'll fine us what? Fifty credits each? Or a day of cleaning duties? C'mon, what does it matter? I could really use a drink right about now, and you're probably about to keel over. It would be irresponsible to _not_ go. How can we serve the Emperor if we're not alive to do it?"

So that was why TS-708 wanted to convince him to go. He just wanted a drink for himself, the lazy bastard. At this point, however, LS-227 didn't care. He was just about ready to take off and go for a break; however, the sense of responsibility left in him had one last argument to go.

"What about the droids we're looking for? What if these guys let them slip by because I wasn't here to supervise them?"

"Be realistic, Sarge," TS-708 said in what was probably meant to be a soothing voice. It came out of his helmet sounding tinny, nasal, and inhuman. "What kind of difference will two droids make to the galaxy? It's probably just some Imperial officer up high trying to destroy evidence of some kind of sex scandal or illegal spice shipments he was involved in. _It won't make a difference!_"

Dammit. LS-227 sighed. The Stormtrooper was right. And besides, he probably really was suffering some kind of fatigue from all the heat, or else he wouldn't be experiencing terrible amnesia.

"All right, let's get going," he said, placing his rifle across his back. As TS-708 pumped his fist in happiness, the sergeant turned to the other men behind him. "You men continue to man this post and look for those missing droids," he commanded. "TS-708 and I have received summons back at HQ, and we'll be back shortly."

"Yes, sir!" the Stormtroopers chorused. LS-227 nodded to his comrade and they took off together towards the cantina.

"You lead," he said once the other Stormtroopers were out of earshot. "I have no idea where this cantina is."

"Sure thing Sarge," TS-708 said, and they made their way through the busy Mos Eisley street. Most of the locals were smart enough to stay out of their way, and none of the merchants bothered trying to sell them anything. Apparently, they were all afraid that they'd be arrested if they bumped into or even talked to an Imperial Stormtrooper.

LS-227 gradually let his mind wander as the two walked on, and began to ponder once again whether illegally going to get a drink was a good idea. Obviously, it wasn't. But the temptation had been a bit too much for him, and he'd been in a favorable position to do whatever he felt like. And he was supposed to be the responsible one!

Loud shouting directly in front of him snapped him back to the present, and he suddenly noticed the large crowd that had gathered and formed a ring. They were in the middle of some deserted small market, with no houses anywhere nearby and empty stalls lining the area.

"What the… What's going on here?!" It looked like he and TS-708 had stumbled across some sort of public disturbance. The younger Stormtrooper shrugged, seemingly just as confused as he was. Aggravated at being forced to do his job, TS-708 began to force his way through the crowd, with LS-227 following his lead once more. The civilians they ran into instinctively cowered before them; the majority of them scattered took off running.

"Stormtroopers!" one of the members of the crowd screamed, sending the rest of the people scrambling to get away, creating a mad frenzy. Only two people remained afterwards, and were apparently what the crowd had been so interested in. A couple of men were wrestling on the ground, both trying to pin the other as they punched and kicked and even bit each other. LS-227 and TS-708 quickly grabbed the men and separated them, though apparently both of them were so enraged that not even the sight of Stormtroopers could calm them.

The man in LS-227's grasp squirmed and managed to break free, lunging at his rival in TS-708's arms. The Stormtrooper got caught in the middle, creating a three-way fight as he punched out one of the men with his armored glove.

The other man, seeing that the fight was over, finally realized the severity of the situation and tried to run. Angrily, TS-708 drew his rifle and shot him in the back, sending an electric shock throughout his body as he fell stunned to the ground. The two Stormtroopers inspected the bodies and found both of them unconscious.

"What did you think you were doing?" LS-227 hissed angrily. "You're not allowed to shoot at an unarmed target, even if it's to stun!"

"Did you seriously want to chase him all the way across town?" TS-708 answered.

"It's against protocol!" the sergeant answered, as unwilling to break the rules as a clone.

"Yeah, well so is leaving your post to get a drink, and you don't mind that so much," TS-708 retorted, shutting up his superior. He looked around, checking to see if there were any witnesses. "Come on, let's get out of here." He got up from the body and began to walk away.

"What are you doing now?!" LS-227 asked furiously. "We can't leave these bodies here!"

"Sure we can, Sarge," TS-708 replied. "There's no witnesses. And besides, do you really feel like doing all the paperwork required for placing an arrest?"

"These two men are witnesses," LS-227 pointed out. "And I think that laziness isn't a good enough excuse to try and avoid some paperwork." TS-708 sighed.

"Sarge, if we go back to base with these two idiots, they'll know that we weren't at our post, and we'd get busted. We don't have much choice other than to leave them here. Besides, to any civilian, all of us Stormtroopers look exactly alike. There's no way they'd be able to identify us enough to leave a complaint. Now let's get going, the cantina isn't too far from here." Shouldering his rifle once again, TS-708 made his way down the emptied streets. LS-227 shook his head. Once again, the younger Stormtrooper's arguments were both highly irresponsible and logical.

The two walked on calmly down the streets, and gradually they came across more and more people as they got farther away from the deserted market. LS-227 wondered vaguely why those two men had been fighting each other in the first place, and found that he didn't care.

A short Jawa suddenly ambled towards them, face concealed by his hood and his eyes glowing. The way he swaggered indicated that he'd had a bit too much too drink; he walked as if he were incapable of traveling in a straight line. Even as the two Stormtroopers walked past him, he suddenly reached out and grabbed onto TS-708, and began shrieking something in his language. The Stormtrooper appeared to understand him perfectly fine, and looked up at LS-227 after the Jawa had finished.

"Sarge, this guy here says somebody mugged him, and he was too drunk to fight back."

"So what?" asked the sergeant impatiently. First breaking up some streetfight, and now this?

"Well, he says he knows where the guy lives, and he'll take us to him."

"We can't make any arrests, you said so yourself."

"Yeah, I know, but maybe we can just go over there and crack this guy's head and give this Jawa his money back. We won't have to arrest anybody, and nobody can identify us anyways."

"Where does this mugger live?"

TS-708 talked to the Jawa again, and looked back up. "It's on the way to the cantina, so we're in luck."

"Fine let's do it…"

The drunken Jawa led the way this time, slowly making his way through the bustling streets. Since the creature was apparently too drunk to give an actual address, the Stormtroopers had no choice but to follow him wherever he went. Twice the Jawa doubled back on a street, cursing in his language so quickly that TS-708 couldn't translate it. The trio wound up walking in circles through the city for at least half an hour, and it appeared that the Jawa had no clue about where they were and where they were supposed to be going.

Just as LS-227 was getting ready to explode, the annoying creature suddenly got on the right track, talking excitedly as it led them. It led them into a dead-end street lined with bungalows, and pointed at one as it hopped up and down in ecstasy.

"Finally," LS-227 muttered. "Let's get this over with, then." The three approached the bungalow, and the Stormtroopers drew their rifles in anticipation. TS-708 got ready to kick the door down as soon as he reached it, but the Jawa shouted shrilly at him, telling him to not do it. The alien then walked up to the door himself and knocked on it. The two Stormtroopers exchanged puzzled looks as the small, Jawa-sized door opened.

In the doorway stood another Jawa, this one a bit smaller than the drunk that had led them here. The drunk Jawa said something slowly, at which point the Jawa from the house began to scream furiously at him in what sounded like a feminine voice. She began to violently beat the drunk over the head, screaming at him as he wailed. LS-227 got ready to stop the fight, but there was no need as the drunk Jawa escaped from the female Jawa's reach and clung onto TS-708 once again, saying something desperately as he pointed at the hostile female.

"Sarge, you're not gonna believe this…" TS-708 said, looking down at the beaten Jawa and shaking his head.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously.

"This guy never got mugged. He was just drunk and scared shitless of coming home to his wife without an escort to protect him. He says that she gets really violent when he comes home drunk."

"That's his _wife_?" asked LS-227 incredulously.

"Yep."

"Forget this, then!" the sergeant snarled angrily. "I left the post to get a damn drink, and that's what I'm going to do! I'm not going to waste my time protecting this loser! Let's get out of here!" Replacing his rifle on his back, he turned around and began to walk away from the bungalow.

"Tough luck, buddy," said TS-708, and pushed the Jawa away from him. Despite the drunk wailing desperately for them to return, they walked out of the dead-end street and left him to fend for himself.

"No more community service!" said LS-227. "We're going straight to the cantina from now on!"

"Sure thing Sarge."

The two made their way down the city, and finally made it to the cantina within ten minutes. TS-708 had been right; the Jawa's house had been on the way there.

"Well, here we are, Sarge," said TS-708. "Now how about that drink we've been talking about? I'll even buy to make up for all the crap we've been going through to get here."

"Sounds good to me," replied the sergeant, happy about being able to finally take a real break.

As the two made their way inside the bar, they found the place in a complete mess.

"Finally!" said the bartender to the two confused Stormtroopers. "I called for you guys twenty minutes ago! It's about time you showed up!"

"What? What's going on here?"

"Some crazy old man took his fancy sword and cut a guy's arm off! On top of that, we've got some dead bounty hunter sitting in a corner over there, someone shot him!"

"Wh-What?!" As the bartender continued to ramble on about whatever else had gone wrong that day, LS-227 turned to the Stormtrooper standing next to him, the one who had gotten him into nothing but trouble the entire day.

"We can't just run away from this! We really have to fill out the reports, and we'll get fined for breaking the rules! This was all your idea!" he howled. TS-708 only shrugged.

"If I had known it would end like this, I never would have told you."


End file.
